


Home Invasion, Tailor Made

by geesecanon



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Baking, Demon!Dan, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fell into the demon!dan hole and never really fully emerged tbh, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-08-17 14:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8147026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geesecanon/pseuds/geesecanon
Summary: “No, no, I’m a real, bonafide demon. Straight from Hell, to your kitchen.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> me: dont post this until its finished
> 
> also me, with the ideas but no time to actually write: yolo

Suzy was the one who bought the “cookbook” for you in the first place. She dragged you through thrift store after thrift store, antique shop after antique shop, looking for “the perfect patterns to pin my bugs to, seriously, it has to be _just right_.”

You weren’t really one for shopping any longer than fifteen minutes, so when she shoved the dusty book in your face suddenly at the two hour and thirty seven minute mark, you were a little dazed.

“Huh?” you ask, taking a step back. “What?”

“It’s an old cookbook!” Suzy proclaims, sounding triumphant that she had found it. “You cook, right? This is perfect!”

You take the old, leather-bound book from her hands. You weigh it on both your hands slightly; it’s nothing short of a ton. It was a seriously thick book, bound with leather that had illegible things carved on the front and the spine. You run your fingers over the marks, trying to read them. No avail. You just get dust on the pads of your fingers.

You open the book, noticing the pages are yellowed and frail, crisp like they had been stuck in an oven for too long. The sentences inside are illegible, also. In fact, they don’t even look English. It’s simply weird symbols.

“I don’t think it’s a cookbook, Suzy,” you say, looking back up at her. She looks at you expectantly. “Even if it was, it’s not even in English.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? Look!” Suzy points a perfectly manicured finger at the page you had opened up to. 

You look back down and—

Well. It was certainly in English now.

“Two cups of brown sugar,” you read off. “Three cups of freshly ground flour. Two cups of—what the fuck, goat’s milk?” You look up at Suzy again. She’s grinning at you. 

“Get it!”

“I don’t know…”

“Humph! Fine, then _I’ll_ get it _for you_.” 

She snatches the book out of your hands, sticks it under her arm and marches off. Dutifully, you follow her.

Another hour later, you sit in the car with the cookbook in your lap.

“ ‘Put water with sugar and boil until clear’,” you read aloud. “ ‘Then add cream slowly so candy will not stop boiling.’ This seems weird.”

“No, it’s gonna be delicious,” Suzy insists, hands on the steering wheel. There is a whole array of reusable bags filled with different patterns of cloth and paper, not to mention some things “too good to pass up” apparently, in the backseat of Suzy’s car. “This is gonna be awesome. That was such a good find, only three dollars!”

 

The cookbook sat untouched in your apartment for a month.

This was for several reasons. First and foremost, you had a life. Sort of. Kind of. That life consisted of delivering homemade goods to local (and some big name) stores in your city, getting paid, actually making said homemade goods, sleeping, eating, hanging out with Suzy, and playing video games. 

Second of all, you had _other,_ much more reasonable cookbooks to use. Ones that didn’t give you weird vibes every time you got near it, or that didn’t ask for weird ingredients like _fresh goat’s milk_ and _moon-soaked water_ and _sugar boiled directly from the cain_. Your regular cookbooks asked for much more reasonable ingredients, like _milk_ and _water_ and _sugar_. 

Then finally…you swear the cookbook changed recipes every time you opened it.

This all amasses to a month later, with you sitting alone in your apartment that you shared with Suzy. She was out with her boyfriend today. You liked Arin, a lot actually, but often insisted they go _out_ for dates instead of staying _in_ when you were trying to cook. Or play video games. Or just relax.

From your bookshelf, you _swear_ the cookbook is staring you down. Or you would swear it, if the cookbook had eyes.

“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, standing up from the couch and yanking the mystery cookbook off the shelf. Striding into your kitchen (not _the_ kitchen, _your_ kitchen, because you made a living out of the damn thing, Suzy, please stop trying to rearrange it and _please_ stop leaving your bugs around here!) you flip open the book to a random page, then prop it up on the counter.

Chocolate Drop Cookies. That seemed simple enough. As you scanned through the ingredients, you felt a little reassured. Nothing weird in this recipe, it seemed. 

You gathered the ingredients out on the counter: cake flour, soda, salt, butter, brown sugar, eggs, unsweetened chocolate, milk and vanilla. All extremely regular ingredients. You skim over the baking instructions, finding them doable, if not a little tedious. Some letters in the words are randomly capitalized, but you brush it off. Not the weirdest thing about this cookbook by far. 

“Sift flour once, measure, add soda and pinch of salt, and sift together twice,” you read aloud, and get to work. You sift the flour, measure two cups worth, add half a teaspoon of soda and a dash of salt. Then you sift it again into the bowl.

“Cream butter thoroughly, add sugar gradually, and cream together until light and fluffy. Add egg and beat well.”

It takes you a little bit of time, wanting to get the details just right.

“Add melted chocolate and blend. I can do that,” you snort, sticking the unsweetened chocolate in the microwave. Once melted through the wonders of modern, radioactive technology, you blend it with the butter, sugar, and egg mix. 

“Add flour, alternately with milk, a small amount at a time. Beat after each addition until smooth,” you read aloud, running your finger under the instruction. “Oh, lord, this is going to take awhile.” 

In this process, you manage to get flour all over your shirt, but that’s fine. Hazard of the job. Eventually you have the smooth mixture in the bowl. 

“Add vanilla.”

You dump in a teaspoon of vanilla and beat the mix.

“Drop from teaspoon on greased baking sheet and bake in modern oven—what?” You get close to the cookbook, almost pressing your nose against it. “Modern oven?”

You blink. The cookbook now says “Modern oven at 350F.”

“Whatever. Whatever! Haunted cookbook, whatever,” you mutter to yourself, grabbing your teaspoon measure and washing it in the sink. You dry it, grease a baking sheet, set your oven to 350F to preheat, then start dropping the mix onto the baking sheet. When you are almost done making the drops, your oven _DINGS_ that its heated.

“Bake in modern oven for seven minutes,” you read the final step aloud. Feeling confident and extremely proud of yourself, you open the oven, brace yourself against the wave of heat, stick the baking sheet in, and close the oven door. You set the timer for seven minutes.

“Those are gonna be delicious,” a voice behind you says.

You spin around at the voice that is definitely not Suzy’s, and, to your horror, see a tall man standing in your kitchen. Shocked, you back away, your lower back hitting the edge of the counter when you can’t go any farther.

“Wh-Who the fuck are you?” you ask in a shaky voice, reaching around behind you for something, _anything_ to defend yourself.

He’s not necessarily threatening looking, on principle. He’s tall, lanky, longer frizzy hair that seems to curl wildly in every direction. He’s a little unshaven, with a bit of a visible stubble starting to come in, and is wearing a red kimono that shows his chest a little.

He would not be necessarily threatening looking if he didn’t have _horns coming out of his head_.

“Who am I?” he laughs a little, like the answer is obvious.

“Get out of my apartment,” you threaten.

“Whoa, calm down a little—”

Your hand finally finds something, and you hold it out in front of you for protection, finding yourself wielding…a whisk.

“Get out of my apartment!” you threaten, louder now.

The man with horns like rams holds his hands up in a sort of surrender motion. “Just calm down, okay?” he says. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then why are you in here! How did you get in here? Who are you?!” You’re still brandishing the whisk at him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeats, taking a step forward. “You summoned me.”

“I—what?” Your mind is reeling, trying to process the information. “I didn’t summon _anything_ , I was just making cookies from this weird, haunted cookbook!” 

“Haunted?” The man laughs a little. “No, no, not quite. Also not a cookbook? Can I see—whoa!” He attempts to reach for the cookbook (?) behind you, but holds his hands back up when you furiously swish the whisk around. 

“Stay away from me!” you say loudly.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” he insists again, sounding a little exasperated. “Seriously!”

“You have horns! What the fuck are you?”

“I’m a demon,” he says. 

“Okay.”

“My name is—” and then he makes an unintelligible, almost screeching sound that makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. He pauses, then adds, “…but you can just call me Dan.”

“(Y/N)," you say, almost absentmindedly. "Dan?” you repeat. “What kind of demon even chooses that name?”

“Um, ouch,” Dan presses a hand to his heart, as if wounded. “That stings. I happen to like that name. Now, can I see the, uh…haunted cookbook?” When you don’t respond and simply look at him warily, he adds, “Please?” 

Still gripping the whisk tightly, you grapple behind you to find the cookbook (or whatever the _fuck_ it was), and shove it towards him, still open to the recipe. Dan takes it from you carefully, holding it like a relic. Which it might as well be. Oh, god, did you summon a demon on accident? You just wanted cookies.

“Yeah, so, this isn’t a cookbook,” Dan says after a moment of reading, looking up at you. “It’s a book of summons. It’s charmed to trick you into saying the actual words to summon…whatever page you’ve turned to. And uh…you got my page!” He smiles at you, and it shows off his pointy teeth a little too much for it to be anywhere near comforting. When you don’t smile back, he awkwardly looks back down at the opened book. “Actually, this is pretty creative, ‘cause it like…randomly capitalized letters so you ended up saying the words from the book without even realizing it. Huh. That’s…never seen a book do that.” He laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“So…I summoned a demon because I read a cookie recipe aloud,” you reiterate.

“Yep!” Dan says cheerfully, slamming the book shut. “And now you’ve got me!” 

_DING!_

“Awesome, are the cookies ready?” Dan asks eagerly. “I haven’t eaten any in centuries, you humans have amazing technology now.”

You blink at him. For all intents and purposes, you should be feeling nervous, threatened, scared. He has red and black horns, for Christ’s sake. And sharp, pointy teeth. But the red kimono just looks kind of silly on him, and his hair does a good job to actually hide the horns for the most part. Not to mention…his laugh is kind of nice.

“Um…yeah, they’re ready,” you say, feeling awkward, lowering the whisk a little. “Lemme just…” You set the whisk down, put on your oven mitts, and open the oven. There’s a blast of heat, and the smell of chocolate engulfs you for a moment. You pull the drop cookies out, and put them on the stovetop. 

Dan immediately reaches for one, and you swat his hand away.

“Let them cool first,” you scold a little. “What are you, a savage?”

Dan giggles. “Sorry.”

You realize the two of you are standing pretty close now, and you take an immediate step back, pressing yourself against the counter again. “Um. So, you’re a demon. Or—you say you are, unless you’re some rando who broke into my apartment dressed as a demon, in which case, I will _not_ hesitate to call the cops.”

Dan laughs. “No, no, I’m a real, bonafide demon. Straight from Hell, to your kitchen.”

You don’t know why you believe him. “Right.”

“Like, if you throw holy water on me, I _will_ burn. Crosses also hurt, but are mainly just an eyesore.”

You laugh, feeling a little light-headed. “Okay.”

“Great!” Dan grins at you, still with pointy teeth. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“So…what do I do, now that I’ve summoned a demon?” you ask. 

Dan shrugs. “Anything you want, really. Like, you _ask_ me to do anything in exchange for…whatever. Ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom. I get it done. Then I’m out of your hair.”

“Don’t I have to sell my soul, or something?”

“Eehhh,” he shrugs, making a non-committal hand gesture. “I guess technically, yeah. For the big stuff. Like if you asked me to kill someone, or whatever. Well, actually, if you _did_ sell your soul, I’d do whatever you wanted for…I think it’s like ten years? Maybe thirty. I’m a little rusty on this whole thing,” he giggles. “I don’t get a lot of summons, actually.”

“Surprise, surprise,” you say a little absently.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Dan laughs.

“I think it’s twenty-four years,” you tell him. “Twenty-four years of service for a soul.”

“Um…” Dan taps his chin in thought. “Yeah, yeah, I think you’re right. How do you know that?” 

“I’ve read _Dr. Faustus_.” 

“Faustus?”

“Like…” You try to think how to explain the whole thing. Explaining a play about selling your soul to a demon seems a little redundant. “Hold on, do you want some of the cookies? They should be cool.”

“Uh, fuck yeah!” Dan says with a huge smile, and swipes the baking tray directly from the stovetop and walks out of your kitchen. You follow him, slightly flabbergasted by his boldness, and watch him sit in the center of your living room.

“Yeah, make yourself at home, buddy,” you scowl a little.

Dan giggles. “Thanks!” He shoves some cookies in his mouth. “Okay, tell me about Faustus.”

You sit across from him, cross-legged, on the floor. “Uh…it’s an old play. _The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus_.”

Dan snorts. “The _tragical_?” he repeats. “Who even talks like that?”

“Back in the day!” you defend. “Back in the day speak. Like…when people _actually_ summoned demons.”

He shrugs, still munching on the cookies.

“Anyway, it, uh…this guy sells his soul to a demon for twenty-four years of service, I think? It’s really famous, has a lot of famous lines, like… “Was this the face that launch’d a thousand ships?” is one of them. And the demon has a name? Mepha…Meh…Mephist…Mephistophiles!” 

Dan’s face lights up. “I know him!”

“You do?” 

“He’s my boss! Or my boss’ boss, something like that. Yeah! Wow, this is so cool.” Dan looks down at the—now empty—cookie sheet. “And these were really good,” he tells you.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” you say, a little bitter that you hadn’t gotten to try the cookies that warranted a demon summon.

“Ah, don’t give me that look!” Dan pleads a little. “They were _too_ good!”

“Whatever. I’ll just make more,” you say.

“I don’t think the book is going to give you the recipe again,” Dan tells you.

“Oh.”

The two of you sit in silence for a solid minutes, unable to come up with conversation. You were sitting with a _demon_ in your living room. What did you say?

“I don’t really have anything for you to do,” you tell him. “Sorry. Things are all pretty okay on my end.”

Dan pouts a little. “Not even something small? No one you want to enchant in lust? I can’t do love, but lust is pretty close, right?”

You just blink at him.

“Or revenge, maybe? Do you have a roommate? You—I—we can get revenge on them for…whatever.”

“No, I love Suzy to death,” you respond.

Dan seems a little stumped.

“You can just go back, if you want to,” you say. Dan looks at you, surprised. “To…whatever hell dimension you came from. I really don’t have anything for you to do.”

“Well…um…I mean…I could, I guess, technically, it’s just…” he trails off, looking a little dejected, rubbing the back of his neck. “…I kinda don’t want to?”

“Is Hell that bad?”

“I mean, _duh_ ,” Dan giggles a little. “It’s Hell. But—no, I just…haven’t spent a lot of time on the surface, lately. For awhile. Kinda want to make the most of it while I can.” 

“Oh.” Despite the fact that he is _a literal demon_ , you feel kind of bad for the guy. You didn’t have much to do for the rest of the day, not until Suzy got home, probably with Arin to tow. “Wanna play video games?” you ask.

“Video games?” he repeats.

“Yeah.” You stand up, walking over to your shared video game collection stocked on the shelves next to your television. “When was the last time you were…uh…on the surface?” You try to use his rhetoric.

Dan giggles, still sitting on your floor, empty cookie tray balanced on his lap. “Couple decades ago. Some guy traded me his firstborn for something called an NES?” 

You pause. “Right. That’s uh…that’s fair. I guess.” It wasn’t actually fair, in your mind, but you pull a game off one of the shelves. “Wanna play _Shovel Knight_? That might be up your alley.”

 

_Shovel Knight_ was _so goddamn far from his alley_.

Initially, you tried to cut Dan some slack, because he was utterly confused by the controller that wasn’t very compatible with his large demon thumbs. He was also confused by the idea of things being projected on screens, and you had to reassure him no magic was involved to get the pixelated knight and shovel on screen. And then you had to coach him through the mechanics of the game.

And then he found the character customization. That took another hour.

“I love this knight!” Dan proclaims for the _fifty-seventh time_ as you try to coerce him through the Tinker Knight level. 

“Yeah, I know,” you mutter, focused on the game. “He has horns like you.”

“So great!” 

The two of you are sprawled out on your floor, so close that you’re touching. Dan says its so he can see what you’re doing on your controller, but you question the validity of that statement. He just seems to want to be close to you. Strangely, you don’t particularly mind it. Dan is mindful to keep his horns out of your way, which you appreciate. Every time he dies, he giggles a little at your exasperated sighs and groans, and you can feel his body shake with it. 

By far, not the worst way to spend your day.

“Okay, boss battle. You remember this, right? This is the big one,” you tell Dan.

“The big one!” Dan repeats cheerily. “Let’s crush this bad boy!” 

Two frustrating attempts later, you are two hits away from beating Tinker Knight’s final form. But one hit yourself from dying. Dan is in the same boat.

“Just say alive,” you chant, mostly to yourself. Dan giggles next to you, leaning into you a little. You watch the two characters bounce around the screen, shovels in hand. “Stay alive, STAY FUCKING ALIVE.”

One bounce. Two bounce. Tinker Knight’s mechanical armor explodes.

“Fuck _yes!_ ” you laugh, watching the victory scene unfold on your television screen. “Holy fuck! Yes!” You lean back on your hands and moan a little in relief.

Next to you, Dan shivers, strangely quiet. 

“God, that took for-fucking-ever,” you complain, taking your controller in hand again. “Thank god. Or—thank Satan, whatever. Should I not invoke God’s name in your presence?”

Dan laughs, face a little flushed. “Considering I haven’t combusted yet, I think you’re fine.”

“Awesome.” You grin, leaning against his shoulder. “Let’s go to the village and get that beautiful golden suit.”

A few feet away, your phone chirps. You swipe it and check your new text message.

> _coming home in a few minutes w/ Arin. he wants to say hi :)_

“Well, fuck,” you say aloud.

“What?” Dan asks.

“My roommate and her boyfriend are gonna be here in a few minutes,” you say. You move back a little so you can turn to Dan without getting his hair in your face. “I don’t really know how to explain a demon in a silk kimono in our living room.”

Dan laughs. “So you’re telling me I should go?”

His blunt statement makes you feel a little guilty. “I’m not _telling_ you you should go,” you say. “I’m…hinting that maybe that would be a good idea, unless you want to explain the whole demon thing to two more people.” 

Again, Dan laughs. “I’ve probably spent enough time here, anyway.”

You frown. You hadn’t expected to enjoy his company as much as you did. “Are you sure? I can smuggle you into my room, and you can hang out there until she inevitably leaves to go back to her boyfriend’s place. Unless…unless they stay here tonight…” You are starting to see flaws in your plan to keep a demon secretly hidden in your room.

Dan shakes his head, standing up. He stretches a little, and you get to your feet. “No, no, I’ll head out. This was nice. I appreciate the cookies and the game with the knights that look like me.”

“The horns are just part of their helmets, dude,” you tell him for the millionth time.

Dan shrugs, smiling lazily.“I had a good time regardless.” 

“We should do it again, sometime,” you find yourself saying. “I’ll summon you again. With the cookbook.”

Dan shakes his head. “Good luck finding the page.”

You frown. “So this is goodbye?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Bummer.” 

The two of you stand in your living room for a moment, somewhat at a loss of things to say. You shuffle your feet a little awkwardly, looking anywhere but him.

And then Dan says, “Ah, fuck it.”

He sweeps into your space, much faster than you could have ever realized, tilts your chin up with one long finger and leans down and kisses you. 

It’s soft and sweet, just closed lips against each other, but you feel a warmth spread down to your toes and a faint thrumming throughout your entire body. It’s like the equivalent of fireworks going off, but much more subtle. Like you’re being lowered into a warm bath. 

When he pulls back, your entire body feeling much hotter than it did a moment ago, he says, “If you wanna get in touch with me, you’ll know what to do.” 

In a puff of smoke, he disappears.

You stand there for a moment, shocked, your entire body humming with a strange energy. There’s a tune left in your head now, a simple five notes. You don’t know where it came from, but the thought of it leaves the taste of chocolate chip cookies in your mouth. 

As if on cue, you hear the lock turn on the front door, and Suzy and Arin barrel through, giggling. “Hey, (Y/N)!” Suzy greets cheerily. 

“Hey guys,” you say, still feeling a little distant. 

“How was your day?” Arin asks, scampering over and giving you a quick hug. You return it, and Suzy sweeps into the room, sitting on the couch.

“It was good,” you tell him, leaning down to pick up the empty cookie tray on the floor as Arin goes to sit next to Suzy. “I, uh, made some cookies. Out of that weird cookbook you bought me, Suzy.”

“Ooh! Were they good?”

“Yeah, I—” you laugh a little. “I ate all of them while playing _Shovel Knight_.”

As you walk to the kitchen to clean off the tray, and also clean up your baking mess from hours ago, you hear Arin say quietly, “Why was she playing two-player?” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw [chants] nsfw! nsfw!

You had not forgotten about the whole demon thing.

Actually, there was a high chance that Suzy would believe the whole haunted-cookbook-summoning bit. You just didn’t know how to explain it. But you spent the next few days preparing a large order to deliver to a big-name grocery store, and a farmer’s market that you had booked a table at. So you cooked almost nonstop for two days, running over the whole demon thing in your head over and over and over.

Dan had said you would know how to summon him again, and you figured it had something to do with the five-note tune you had stuck in your head. An ear-worm, definitely. The only problem was that you had been humming it constantly while you cooked and baked, but there was no frizzy haired, fun loving demon in sight. 

Day Three of no Dan, you start to feel a little dejected, and maybe like you had imagined the whole thing, when he reappears next to you in a puff of smoke just as you are putting a tray of brownies into the oven.

“Fuck!” you shout, stumbling away a little, completely surprised and caught off-guard. “Jesus Christ, dude, warn a gal next time.”

Dan giggles. He’s wearing another silk kimono, this time a turquoise color. “Sorry, sorry.” It doesn’t sound a lot like an apology, but he continues, “Hey! So you summoned me!” 

You take off your oven mitts and place them on the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ve been trying to for the past few days, actually.”

Dan nods, looking a little sheepish. “Actually—yeah, I know. I was getting some shit from the higher-ups for…” He trails off, looking a little lost. “I don’t really know how to explain this? The whole contract thing.”

“I did _not_ sign a contract.”

“I know! I know, but like, you still summoned me, and I still ate your cookies…” He giggles again. “Ah, fuck. Essentially I’m indebted to you until I fulfill my requirements of the deal. But we didn’t _set_ any requirements before I took the cookies, and…yeah. I kind of fucked up, actually. ‘Cause I’m super forgetful, so now I’m kind of in a weird sort of bind.” He pauses, focuses fully back on you, and smiles wide. “But now I’m back!”

“But now you’re back,” you repeat, amused. You kind of hate to admit it, but your mood has improved drastically upon his arrival. “So what do we do? Since you’re indebted to me?”

“Uh, let’s try to even the cosmic scales until I’m out of your service. I think that’ll do it. At least—that’s what I was told do to.” He shrugs. “Can’t really complain if I get to spend more time with you.” 

You blush, reluctantly. Your body betrays you. Dan grins, and now you find the sharp teeth a little less threatening. He takes a few steps closer to you, just slightly too close to be friendly. You’re essentially trapped against the counter now.

“So let me get on with my demon spiel,” he says, and then stands up a little straighter. “So, I’m an incubus, which is—”

“A sex demon,” you interrupt.

Dan snickers. “You know what that is?” 

You nod.

“So you know what I can do, then.” He leans down a little, and, if possible, your face gets even more red. He smiles at you, almost seductive, eyes lidded just slightly and staring at your lips. When you say nothing, he continues, “Or maybe you don’t? I can go into detail, sweet fantasies, whatever your heart desires—”

“Can you help me bake?” you ask, abruptly. 

This effectively shatters whatever spell Dan had begun to cast (hopefully metaphorically, you really didn’t need spell-casting in your kitchen). He looks at you amused. “Baking?”

“I have a huge order to fill,” you tell him. “Essentially I sell baked goods. Can you help me bake? That’s kind of what I need help with right now.”

Dan is flabbergasted, and takes a step back. “You have a sex demon, who is under your bidding, willing to do _whatever_ you want…and you want me to help you bake?”

“Um. Yeah?” You think you might have insulted him a little. “I have a vibrator, I don’t really need help getting off.”

Dan looks a little stunned. “What?”

“I said—I have a vibrator. I need help baking for an order to deliver tomorrow, not help from some guy to get me off.”

_Now_ you’ve insulted him.

“Are you saying I’m—akin to a fucking _vibrator_?!” He practically explodes before your eyes. The air crackles with hot energy, his eyes turn a deep red, and a tail you hadn’t noticed before swishes violently.

Scared and suddenly fearing for your life, you press yourself back against the counter. For another few seconds, you stand there staring at him, unable to tear your eyes away as the air heats up around you, heart pounding.

Then he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and calms down. Everything feels less high-stakes, and the temperature of the room literally cools around you.

“Sorry,” he apologies quietly, opening his eyes, and now they are back to their normal color. “Sorry, sorry, that was—holy shit, I really lost my cool there,” he says. “I haven’t, um…” He laughs, nervous, apologetic, rocking back and forth on his feet a little. “Haven’t interacted with humans for awhile. I forgot—how you guys think.”

You scowl, arms crossed over your chest, hoping you aren’t betraying how terrified you still are.

“Baking, though, I can do that!” Dan perks up. Then wilts a little. “I can maybe do that. I can do that with guided instruction.”

“You really—” You clear your throat, trying to steady your voice. “You really don’t have to, if you don’t wanna. I can do it myself. I’m not—I’m not holding you hostage, here. Really.”

Dan groans. “You don’t really get it, do you?”

You shake your head. “Guess not.”

“I’m _literally_ stuck with you—or you stuck with me—until the cosmic scales even out. Until I’ve done something to repay you for the chocolate cookies you made me.” 

“Chocolate chip cookies that _you_ ate,” you rectify, still pressed against the counter. “I didn’t make them for you.”

Dan shrugs. He’s still standing close to you, like he doesn’t realize he’s in your personal space. He lifts a hand to run it through his hair—

—But you flinch.

Dan looks _immensely_ guilty. “Fuck. I really scared you, didn’t I?” 

You cast your eyes downward; for some odd reason, you are feeling _ashamed_ that you were scared of a demon.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and then again, “I’m really—really fucking sorry. Really. I don’t really go from zero to sixty like that…ever. You just…” He laughs. You find yourself smiling just at the sound of it, and have looked back up at him now. He looks sheepish. “You just really insulted me there. Damn. I’m way better than a vibrator.”

“Well…” You trail off. “I really need help baking more than I need help with an orgasm right now.” 

“Like I said, baking: I can do that!”

 

Dan can’t actually do baking.

He kind of just crowds around you while you mix ingredients, painstakingly getting every bit just right, and then pop whatever it is in the oven and start mixing the next batch. A little monotonous, sure. It’s your thinking time though, your stress reliever, your technical job.

Or it would be if _Dan knew what personal space was._

His hair tickles your cheek as he leans down, over your shoulder, to watch you whisk. “Whatcha workin’ on now?” he asks. His fingers tease around your hipbones, just feathering there, but enough for you to _know._

“Same as last batch,” you tell him, trying to focus.

“Hmm…”

He presses himself against you now, just barely, you can feel the heat coming off of him and the outline of his body. 

“You should probably take a break…” he hums in your ear.

“Or…I could do my fucking job,” you say, a little clipped. He’s annoying, maybe, but you’re reluctantly turned on. Like he knows exactly what buttons to press to get you there.

…Which he might actually know, considering his species status.

“Not even a teensy little break?” His voice is low, teasing, knowing you’re on edge. On _the_ edge. On the edge of giving in.

But you are stubborn.

“Gotta deliver these tomorrow,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. “So, no. No breaks until everything’s cooked.” And then, as an afterthought, “And get your horns out of my way, please.”

Dan pouts and backs off, leaving you increasingly cold. 

You feel bad, so you ask him, “Hey, wanna do me a favor?”

Dan perks up. “Yeah!”

“Put on some music.” 

“Fuck yeah!” 

With a wave of his hand, large speakers appear with a puff of smoke in your kitchen. You feel your stomach drop and your blood pressure rise at the sudden anxiety spike. Jesus. The things took up half the kitchen.

“No, no,” you say quickly. “Take—take those back, holy shit, let me just get my laptop.”

Dan pouts and, with another wave of his hand, the speakers disappear. As you go get your laptop from your bedroom, he calls after you, “We can’t even the scales unless you let me do my job!”

Smiling, you grab your laptop and walk back into the kitchen. “You are doing your job,” you tell him. “You’re helping me, right?”

“You’re not even falling for my seduction!” he complains. “My job is to make you feel amazing, not stress you out! The best orgasms of your life, not— _keep your horns out of my way_ or _don’t grab the hot trays with your bare hands, you’ll burn_!”

You snicker, opening your laptop and pulling up Youtube. Dan continues his rant.

“I won’t burn, by the way! I _can’t_! At least let me help with that, c’mon. I’m begging you.” 

“I’m not—you’re not stressing me out,” you tell him, because he sounds like he’s only a few words away from actually getting on his knees and begging you. Which you could vibe with. Maybe. In the right circumstances. “ _You’re_ not, I’m just always stressed before delivering a big order.” You look over at him, and, if possible, Dan pouts even harder. “What music do you wanna listen to?” 

“Just sayin’,” he says pointedly, “ _much_ better than a vibrator.”

You blush, and turn back to your laptop. “I’m putting on 80s music.”

Dan materializes behind you in a puff of smoke to look over your shoulder as you make a song selection. “Duran Duran?” he echoes.

“You’ve never— _Hungry Like The Wolf_?” 

He leans in closer. “Nu-uh. Sounds sexy, though,” he purrs in your ear.

Your whole body feels like it flushes with the heat coming off of him. “Dan…” you say, warningly.

“Hmm?” His fingertips trail over your hips, under your shirt, stroking up your sides, and you lean into him—

—and your phone chirps, effectively breaking you out of the spell.

“Phone!” you say hastily, pulling away, practically wrenching yourself from him. Dan sighs, exasperated, as you walk back across the kitchen to grab your phone.

“Come _on!_ ” he whines. “I almost had you there! (Y/N)!”

“It could be a client!” you defend, unlocking your phone and looking at the notification. False alarm. No client. Just Suzy, texting you.

> _omw back from work. need me to pick up anything from grocery store for you?_

“Fucking…” you mumble, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Christ. My roommate is on her way home.”

Dan cocks his head to the side. “What’s that mean?”

“Means you have to go.”

Dan chuckles. “I can’t.”

Your hand drops from your face and you stare at him. “What?”

“I _can’t_ go. I told you, I’m here until I’m no longer indebted to you.” He grins at you, slyly. “So unless you want me to do something for you…”

“No, no no no, I can’t…I can’t fuck you in the ten minutes it takes my roommate to get back from work.” Your mind is racing, trying to process the situation, how to handle it, what to do. “Can you, um, can you change your form? Or something?”

Dan processes your words, eyes glazing over a little. “Change my…”

“Something less…” you motion to the entirety of him, silk kimono and horns, “this? Less demon-y?” 

Again, he chuckles. “Sweetheart, how many times do I have to tell you, I can do _anything_ —”

“Then ditch the horns!” you practically order. “And the kimono. Look as close to normal as you can get. Please.”

“Is that an order?”

You can feel your blood boiling, steam practically coming out of your ears as he makes this _so much more difficult than he needs to be_. “Yes!” you almost shout. “That’s a fucking order! Lose the horns, ditch the kimono, look as close as normal as you can get!”

Dan full out laughs. “Okay,” he says. “As close to normal as I can get.” 

He goes up in a puff of smoke, like a magician trying to disappear. But he doesn’t disappear. Instead of the turquoise kimono, he now stands there in ripped jeans and a band tee-shirt (is that _Rush_?) and a leather jacket. The horns are now gone, too, thankfully. When he smiles at you, his teeth look normal and not like they’ve been razored to a fine point, but it still have a shark like quality to it. The stubble is still there. And the wild hair. But he looks, for all intents and purposes, _normal_.

You curl your toes in your socks against the tile of your kitchen floor. He looks hot.

“Like what you see?” he asks, teasing.

“Did you have to go for 80s groupie?” you respond, thankful your wits are still with you.

Dan giggles. “I did, actually,” he tells you. “It’s my favorite look.”

“Good god.” You continue to process the situation. A disguised sex demon in your kitchen, stuck to your side. A large order only two-thirds of the way baked. Your roommate on her way back. The lies you’ll have to tell. The fucking—

“So what now?” Dan asks. “That leaves us with…seven minutes until your roommate gets back?” 

“Yeah.” You pause, look around your kitchen. “Yeah. Now we go back to baking.”

Dan deflates a little. “Are you fucking—”

“That’s an order,” you tell him. “Now we bake. Then Suzy will get back and you’ll go along with whatever lie I tell. And then we’ll figure out how to…what do you keep saying?”

“Even the cosmic scales,” he fills in.

“Even the cosmic scales,” you repeat. “That’s the plan. Okay?”

Dan nods, grinning. “Okay.”

 

Suzy bursts through the door seven minutes later, right on time, and calls, “(Y/N), I’m home!”

“Hi Suze!” you call back. “I’m in the kitchen!”

“You never texted me back, so I didn’t get anything from…” Suzy pauses in the archway leading into your kitchen. You stand there with a bowl of brownie batter, ready to pour it into the pan. Behind you, Dan sits on the counter, licking the spoon. “Hi,” she says, a little meekly.

“Hi!” Dan chirps.

“Who are…um…(Y/N), you didn’t tell me we had…that you had…”

“He’s…a friend,” you find yourself saying, for some reason falling flat on the intricate lie you had been planning. “I’ve been so busy, we haven’t gotten to hang out, so I invited him to…hang out with me while I bake.”

Dan nods enthusiastically. “Yep!”

“Huh.” Suzy looks like she’s processing your words. “But you never let people watch you bake…”

“Well he’s from…out of town,” you continue to blatantly lie. “So…now or never.”

Suzy nods, obviously not believing you. “Right.”

You nod too. “Right.”

Dan also nods. “Right!”

You shoot a glare at him over your shoulder.

“Well, Arin is coming over in a few, and then we’re going to see a movie,” Suzy tells you, regaining her mental footing. “And I’m staying at his tonight, also, so I’m gonna go pack some overnight stuff.”

“Great.”

And then she winks at you, and turns and walks off to her bedroom.

You feel yourself blush, and turn around to Dan…who also winks at you.

You scowl loudly, stepping forward to the counter to pour the brownie mix in the pan.

“Threesome?” Dan offers, thankfully in a quiet tone.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” you say through gritted teeth. Dan giggles and continues to lick the brownie batter off the spoon.

A few minutes later, Arin walks through your door and straight into your kitchen. “Hi, (Y/N)!” He gives you a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and you giggle and recoil from it. 

“Hi, Arin,” you laugh, trying to wipe your cheek off with the shoulder of your t-shirt. “Suzy’s in her room.” 

Arin nods, then looks up at Dan, who is still perched on your counter. “Hey,” he says, sticking a hand out. “I’m Arin.”

Your stomach plummets, as Dan takes Arin’s hands and shakes it. “I’m Dan!” he replies enthusiastically, and you turn to watch the interaction just in time to see Dan give Arin the once over. Arin takes notice of this too, and grins, looking over at you. 

“A friend of yours?” he asks.

“Yep!” Dan answers for you, before you can even open your mouth. 

Arin laughs, taking his hand from Dan’s grip, and leaves the kitchen. “Lemme go get Suzy so we can get out of your guy’s hair. Nice seeing you, (Y/N)! Nice meeting you, Dan.”

“See you later, Arin!” you call after him, then turn to Dan, giving him a disapproving look.

“Foursome?” Dan offers with a wicked smile. 

“I will blue ball you for the rest of eternity, I swear to god,” you threaten.

Dan giggles.

 

Hours later, when the sun has fallen and Suzy and Arin are long gone, you finally sit on your couch, content with the amount of baking you had just done. Everything was finished. You just had to deliver them tomorrow. You sprawl out on the couch, an arm flung over your eyes and one leg hanging off. Just like he has the rest of the day, Dan sticks close to you, standing in front of the couch.

“Are you tired?” he asks.

“What do you think?” Your voice is muffled slightly. 

“Do you want a massage?” 

You peer over your arm to look at him. He’s still in the leather jacket and ripped jeans ensemble that you had ordered him into earlier. “Are you serious?”

Dan shrugs. “Yeah. You look beat as hell.”

You sit up, giggling. “Beat as _hell_ , huh?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. C’mon, lemme give you a massage.” 

“Okay, okay.” You scoot forward on the couch so he can sit behind you. He does so, settling in, and then his long fingers are digging into your back. He massages slowly, intently, like he knows what he’s doing. Your head lolls forward a little, chin close to your chest. 

“Am I doing good?” Dan asks quietly.

“Fuck. Yeah, you are,” you praise, and then moan quietly when he pushes on one spot particularly. You blush and hope he doesn’t notice. He continues like he didn’t hear it, slowly moving down your back, then back up to your shoulders. Everyone once in awhile, you find yourself biting back another moan. 

Eventually, feeling loose and properly unwinded, you roll your shoulders a little and lean back against him. Dan’s hands rest idly on your upper arms, warm through the fabric of your tee-shirt. You tilt your head to look up at him, and he smiles down at you, face incredibly close to yours.

“Was that good?” he asks.

“Fuck yeah, it was amazing.”

“Good.” He pauses, and you watch his face go through several different minute expressions. Then he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

You fight back a smile. “Are you really asking?”

Since he’s so close, you catch the blush that colors his face. “Listen, I’m polite, I…”

“It’s just funny that a sex demon is asking permission to kiss—”

“Holy shit, (Y/N),” he breathes out, sounding exasperated, but smiling. “You’re driving me fucking insane, you have been all day, can I kiss you or not?”

Instead of gracing him with a vocal response, you reach up and tangle a hand in his bushy hair, pulling him down to you.

The kiss is more chaste than anything. It’s an echo of a Spiderman kiss, with his nose bumping into your chin and everything feeling extremely uncoordinated. Not what you expected your first kiss with this guy to be, for sure. Still, you enjoy it. Dan pulls back with a huff, mutters, “Sit up the right way, fucking hell,” and you laugh, slipping out from under him and sitting up.

He’s on you again in an instant, this time with more intensity. His lips move insistently against yours, pushing and pulling, and with the smallest nip at your bottom lip you open your mouth to him. Dan wraps his large hands around your hips, squeezing slightly, and tugging you forward. The kiss breaks, and you climb into his lap as he leans back, sitting upright against the couch cushions. Without missing a beat, you capture him in another kiss, closing your eyes and tangling your hands in his hair again to tilt his head in just the right way.

His hips rock up against yours, grinding against you with little pressure, just teasing. Hands ghosting under your shirt, he runs long fingers up and down your back. You shiver at the sensation, feeling warmer than you were a few minutes ago. When you pull back this time, opening your eyes, Dan grins at you with sharp and pointed teeth.

“Careful with those,” you tell him. “I don’t wanna bleed.”

“Oh, I’m careful with them,” he promises, leaning forward and nibbling at a spot on your neck. You tense, expecting to feel a sharp sting, but he keeps his word and doesn’t break the skin. “Always am,” he murmurs against your neck. 

He removes his mouth to pull your tee-shirt over your head, which you happily help with, and then he unclasps your bra just as quickly. With both hands, he cups your breasts, kissing the tops of them. “So soft,” he says, peering up at you. “You humans are always so soft.”

“Again, be careful,” you warn, feeling your face heating up at you blush. “I’m…soft.”

Dan chuckles. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he appeases, squeezing your breasts and then kneading them gently.

You tug at the leather jacket still on him. “Clothes off,” you order.

Dan raises an eyebrow. “Is than an order?”

“Yes.” You pause. “Underwear only. For the both of us.”

He grins, and in a puff of smoke, the two of you are only down to your underwear. With such little between you two, you can feel the hard line of his dick much more prominently now. You roll your hips a little, and Dan moans softly. You do it again, and his hands trail down to your hips, gripping them.

“You’re torturing me,” he whines, just slightly.

“Yeah?” You steady your hands on his shoulders, grinding against him even more. If you were completely honest, you were doing this just as much for yourself as you were for him. The friction was getting you worked up just the right amount. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Dan growls, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat. “What are you going to let me do?” he asks.

You flush, your whole body heating up. “Whatever you want.”

“Is that…”

“An order? Yes.”

Suddenly, Dan stands up just slightly, leaning forward. In the brief moment that you’re falling backwards with a surprised and panicked shout, you wrap your arms around his neck. You prepare yourself to hit the coffee table, expecting pain—

—But smoke dissipates around you as your back hits your soft bed, bouncing a little.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe, heart hammering. 

Dan hovers over you now with a mischievous grin. “Inter-dimensional travel.”

“Did you just take me through a Hell portal to get to my bedroom?”

“Not a Hell portal, more of a—” he pauses, eyes shifting around as he thinks. Then he focuses back on you. “You know, I’ll explain later.”

On that note, Dan goes back to ravishing you. You squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair as he makes another mark on your neck gently. He rocks his hips against you, still in underwear, and you feel him moan against your skin. 

Then he lifts his head from your neck and says, “You should sit on my face.”

“I should—what?” 

In an admittedly skillful move, Dan rolls the two of you over so that you’re now sitting on his stomach. You blink down at him, feeling flushed. Your hair is wild and sticking in every direction, and Dan’s is splayed back on your pillow. He grins up at you, and you notice the horns are back, halfway hidden in his hair.

“Sit on my face,” he repeats. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.” 

“I…okay,” you find yourself saying, balancing yourself on your knees and pulling your underwear down. You kick it off and, feeling somewhat awkward, crawl forward on your knees. “Like…?”

“Yeah, just like this.” Dan puts his hands on your hips and positions you over his mouth. You’re careful not to trap any of his hair, and then spread your knees so you can sink down onto his mouth.

Immediately, you feel his tongue work its way into you, and you moan, one hand flying out to hit the wall and steady yourself. It’s much longer than a normal human tongue, extremely warm and curling upwards. You moan loudly.

“Fu _ck_.”

Dan hums, the vibrations hitting both your clit and where his tongue is pressed against your g-spot. Your thighs quake and you rock your hips just slightly. You look down at Dan to make sure he’s okay, only to find his eyes looking back up at you. They’re slightly unfocused, looking more blissed out than anything. Your hand that isn’t on the wall, you reach back with and grab a hold of one of his horns, using it as leverage to keep gyrating over his mouth.

Dan’s hands tighten on your hips, and you close your eyes in pleasure as he starts fucking you gently with his tongue. It’s feels messy and sounds equally as lewd, and eventually you can’t help the moans and some of the things you’re saying.

“Fuck…Yeah…fuck, just like…Dan, I’m—I’m gonna…fuck…”

And just like that, your orgasm rips through out, blazing throughout your body like a fire. You gyrate over his face in small motions, back arched, head tilted back, trying to work your way through it slowly. You feel it in your toes, and after a moment you lift yourself off his face and lay down next to him.

“How was that?” Dan asks, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow to look down at you.

You laugh breathlessly, looking over at him. “Holy shit, dude.”

Dan grins, almost smug. Actually, pretty darn smug. “Told you, better than a—”

“Shut up, oh my god,” you say, smiling, and put your hand on the back of his head and pull him down to kiss you. He smiles against your lips, tongue easily working into your mouth, kissing you almost lazily. You taste yourself, bitter in his mouth. He shifts a little to roll on top of you, using both elbows to keep himself up over you.

His body pressed against yourself, you feel the hard line of his dick through his underwear. You pull back and ask, “Want me to take care of that?”

For a sex demon, the question of whether or not he wants to orgasm seems to take him off-guard. He looks, for lack of a better term, embarrassed. “Um. Yeah, I mean, if you don’t mind…” 

“Think you can’t rock my world a second time?” you tease.

With a growl, Dan says, “Oh, I’ll show you,” and captures you in a ferocious kiss. Effectively taking your breath away, he leans back on his knees and, in his usual puff of smoke, his underwear is gone. 

“This isn’t some—I’m not gonna get pregnant, am I?” you ask nervously, eyeing his cock as he takes it hand.

“What? Hell no,” he scoffs. “And no STD’s either, I swear on my demonic existence.”

Realizing you can’t get any concrete proof, but also trusting his words, you say, “Alright then.” You roll over onto your hands and knees, ass in air. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he whispers. With a small hiss of air escaping from between his teeth, Dan guides himself to your cunt, the tip pushing just slightly into your entrance. “You good?” he asks.

“If you don’t— _oh fuck_.” Your sentence is cut off by him thrusting into you fully, hips meeting your ass, and his warm hands grip at your hips. “ _Dan_.”

“You’re—so perfect, holy fuck,” he moans, pulling almost all the way out slowly and then thrusting in again. Your whole body rocks forward with it. He does it again, and again, until he’s set a brutal rhythm that has you choking out moans. 

You’ve rested your weight on your forearms now, all but biting the sheets to stop your moans. Dan continues to plow into you, repeating your name breathily as he does so. You can’t tell, but his eyes are blissed out again, looking vacant. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’—” he moans loudly. 

Your only response is to clench your walls around him. 

With a few more rough and erratic thrusts, Dan lets out one final, loud moan, and you feel him pulse inside you. Almost as if flipping a switch, it seems to trigger your own orgasm. You gasp loudly, entire body shaking as the familiar feeling rolls through your entire body again. As it dissipates, Dan pulls out of you, and you take that as your cue to roll back over onto your back. 

“Was that good?” you ask, a little cheekily. 

Dan flops down next to you. “Hell yeah, it was,” he says, laughing a little. “I’m so full.”

“Full?” you repeat, confused.

“I feed off sexual energy,” he says, eyes closed, face completely relaxed with an easy smile. “And that was one helluva meal.”

For a moment, you aren’t quite sure how to respond, so you just settle with, “You’re welcome, I guess.”

“Oh, thank _you_ ,” he practically purrs. Then he licks his lips. “You taste just like chocolate chip cookies.”

“I…taste like…”

“It’s a compliment, trust me.”

Struck by just how weird this situation is, you laugh. “Dear lord. This has been…”

“Amazing?” Dan rolls onto his side to look at you. Now fully paying attention, you think that his horns are going to tear up your pillows, but when he turns, it simply just seems to phase through it with no harm done. “Spectacular? Astounding?”

“A strange few days,” you decide on.

He shrugs. “But not bad though, right?”

“No,” you say certainly, looking him dead in the eye. “Not bad.”

There’s a comfortable moment of silence where the two of you just look at each other, smiling, so close your noses are almost touching. Dan’s hand rests on your hip, thumbing circles into it. Then you ask, “So what now?”

Dan looks confused. “What do you mean?”

“Do you disappear in another puff of smoke, or are you still stuck with me? And if you do disappear, am I still able to summon you, and what’s the deal with contracts, do I have to make one to keep seeing you…” you trail off.

“Oh.” Dan pauses. “That’s right. The…cosmic scales thing.” He looks a little sheepish. “I…uh…made that up.”

Your eyes widen. “You _what_?”

“I made it up so I had an excuse to see you.”

“But…all the stuff you told me, about your bosses giving you shit…”

“Oh, yeah, well, that was totally true. But I always get shit from them. Maybe you haven’t guessed, but…” Dan grins. “I’m _really_ bad at being a demon.”

You’re at a complete loss for words.

“But as far as I’m concerned, the scales totally aren’t even. I mean, for all intents and purposes, you just fed me again, so I’m even _more_ in your debt, which means…”

“You’ll just keep coming around, won’t you?” you say.

“I mean—” he quickly backtracks, “if you _want_ me gone, say the word, and I’m out of your hair until you summon me again, _if_ you ever summon me again, but I just…” he takes a deep breath. “I kind of think you’re awesome? And want to stick around? If you wouldn’t mind?”

You put a hand his his hair, smiling at him reassuringly. “I don’t think I’d mind at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM /VERY AWFULLY SORRY/ THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET WRITTEN AND INEVITABLY UP ON HERE. you know how ya gotta be in the mood to write smut? that mood didnt hit me for UH about three months. horrible. terrible. here it is at close to 4am very close to the end of 2016 though!!
> 
> thanks so much to all the comments and kudos omg...y'all are too good to me and honestly a driving factor as to why this even got WRITTEN.
> 
> feel free to talk to me on slightlygrumpish.tumblr.com! i promise i dont bite!

**Author's Note:**

> this will 1) be nsfw in the next installment (pinky promise) and 2) updated SOON but with a very loose-soon, considering i am, in fact, a college student that decided to be in over their head this semester. but come talk to me at slightlygrumpish(.tumblr.com) in the meantime!
> 
> also sorry my english major nerd ass got a hold of this idea and made a dr. fautus reference.


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